


Best I Can - Dark Themes - Dicontinued

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry!Dean, Angst!Sam, Depression, Dimple Adoration, Established Relationship, Feels, M/M, RP, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Wincest - Freeform, Worry Line Adoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 10:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In short, Sam breaks down the wall in his mind and decides to kill himself over the grief. Dean, obviously, doesn’t like this idea; So sex ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best I Can - Dark Themes - Dicontinued

**Author's Note:**

> Out of the MULTITUDE of RPs I have yet to get around to editing and posting up, I bring you this one. This was discontinued by me and Barb because we’ve just… Completely lost interest in it. So yeah, it cuts off RIGHT in the middle of things, yer choice to read tho, you’ve been warned. It’s still a good piece of werds.

Dean had told him not to scratch the wall, _just leave it alone_ , it could kill him. Now here he was, placing the tip of a Winchester rifle under his chin, how ironic was that? He shouldn't have dug, trying aimlessly to find all of the time he'd lost, inadvertently knocking the wall away.

He closed his eyes as a tear slid down, chest heaving nervously. "Do it now," He told himself, _before Dean gets back_.

The older Winchester had had a rough time on the out, trying to be discrete around his brother, trying to be vague about details of things concerning the past year and a half.

He parked back at the Motel and nearly ripped the keys from the ignition as he climbed out. He wasn't often rough with his baby, but now seemed like one of _those_ times. He moved to the room they were staying in, unlocked and opened the door, setting the bag of necessities down on the table and looking up, freezing still in shock when he saw his brother.

"Sam," Dean said, eyes widening and hands moving out in a calming motion, so as not to upset the larger man more than he already **clearly** was.

Sam looked up at Dean as if he were lost, pain evident in his eyes. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked, tightening his grip on the end of the rifle. This was his way out, from everything, the crippling pain, the memories.

Dean swallowed as he carefully stepped forward, "Sam, Sammy... Just... Put the gun down," He felt a chill run down his spine at the words, tightening his jaw and blinking hard.

"I'm hurtin', Dean," Sam choked, tears threatening to spill over.

This wasn't meant to hurt his brother, as selfish as it was, this was his way **out**. He was out of his mind, and rightfully so, he couldn't concentrate on anything; Not even the gun in front of him for more than 10 seconds.

Dean nodded. "I know, baby boy," He said, moving closer still, "I know, we all are." He moved suddenly, hand lashing out and tearing the rifle from Sam's grip.

The younger Winchester sat still, barely looking up at Dean. "Just do it," He mumbled, gesturing for Dean to pull the trigger on him, if anything, he'd rather have him do it anyway. Sam clenched his jaw as he cried loudly, "Just fucking do it!"

"'Just do it'?" Dean repeated furiously, glaring at his brother. He held the gun tight as he removed the bullets, turning, taking the front end of it in his fist and swinging it out like a bat, smashing it against the bathroom door frame. The Winchester rifle shattered, pieces scattering over the linoleum and carpet.

Sam stood up in a rush, striding towards his duffel-bag with his extra gun in it. His mind was set on one thing and one thing only, _wasting himself_ ; After the things he'd done, he deserved it.

Dean rushed at him, grabbing his arm to stop him, "The **fuck** do you think you're doin', Sam?" He asked, voice breaking halfway through.

"Just let me **go** ," Sam demanded, meaning it in more ways than one as he tried wriggling his arm free.

"I can't," The older Winchester said at once, pulling Sam away from his duffel-bag, "I can't just let you _go_ , Sam. I just got you back."

Sam's eyes were red and tired, face grim and hopeless as he stammered fretfully, "Listen, it may not be tonight, Dean," He paused looking down where his brother had the grip on him, "But it'll happen, maybe even after you forget about it, think things are fine again. I can't do this anymore, Dean, you don't understand. I can't be _this_ ," He gestured to his body.

"You don't have a choice," Dean argued back, fists gripping his brother's shirt, "If you even try, I'm goin' right down with you, Sam. I'll just make another deal, I'll bring you back. I can't do this without you."

"How can you be so determined to make me live like **this** ," The younger Winchester sobbed, unable to hold the dam inside of him anymore, falling to his knees as the ocean poured from his eyes.

Dean swallowed, looking away, "'Cause I'm a selfish asshole, an' I can't do this alone. I know it hurts, I _know_. But you... You gotta handle this or... Or I **won't**."

"You don't even know what this feels like," Sam cried, looking up at Dean from tear stricken eyes, "Death told you what this could do to me, Dean, and you did it anyway. **You** did this to me."

The older Winchester growled angrily and looked down at Sam again, "I don't? _I_ don't know what that's like? I was in there for **forty years** , Sam. Don't you _dare_ say I don't know what it's like."

"At least your soul is in tact, Dean, mine is in pieces," Sam muttered, looking around the room aimlessly, "You were in hell for forty years, it was my damn **soul** that was stuck in the cage with Lucifer and Michael. You knew the possibilities of what could happen, even after I begged you not to, you had Death put it back," Sam covered his face with his hands as he muffled a loud yell.

Dean swallowed sickly, "I had to take the chance," He admitted, his chest aching for his brother, "I had to get you back, I had to _try_." He was holding his feelings in, but some of them ended up breaking through.

"The man you were before, he wasn't you, he... He wasn't. It's your **soul** , Sam. It's your's an'... An' I couldn't just leave it there, I couldn't leave it as a separate part from you."

"No, you'd rather I burn inside, wanting to die from the pain," Sam muttered before he could stop himself, "Some brother you are," He stood up, frame shaking from anger.

Dean's body spiked with fury and he lashed out, balling his fist and slamming it into Sam's face as hard as he could. "Don't you **dare** say that to me," He shouted and punched his brother again, "What I had to do to **get** that soul back, you fuckin' **ass**. Don't you dare act like I _want_ to see you in pain."

Sam struggled against Dean's strength, trying to stop him, spitting blood out as he stuttered, "Dean, please," His gaze unwavering.

The older Winchester shoved him away, "I _killed_ people for you, you ungrateful **bitch**. I killed a little girl. An innocent, sweet little girl, just to get you back. Don't you _dare_ say I act like I'm some fuckin' horrible person, an' I want to _see_ you in this pain. I just needed **you**. Complete. Whole. Otherwise I don't wanch'you at all."

Sam stood, defeat written all over his body, "I'm just **tired** , Dean, too tired," He looked at Dean with empty eyes, "I don't want to hurt you, I love you, I just..." He paused, "I can't even differentiate what's real and what's not, Dean."

Dean moved forward, tears falling from his eyes as he touched Sam's arms, "I'll fix this, I promise. I'll find a way. You have to trust me, I... I'm tired too, but I don't think we can ever let this go."

Sam grabbed the older Winchester's hands, lacing their fingers as he breathed, "I'm gonna need you more than you need me, you need to know that, Dean, because I can't do this by myself," He admitted, knowing just how weak he was.

"I would never leave you in this alone, Sammy, never," Dean said in reassurance, gripping the fingers back, "I'm here, always. Until end game, I'm here with you, you **know** that."

Sam leaned down as he rested his head on Dean's shoulder. He inhaled the familiar musky scent, his mind whirling at the smell of wood and leather, just like Dean, "I _need_ you," He whispered, his words laced with double meaning.

Dean's body shuddered and he ran his hands down Sam's arms. It'd been a while since they'd been close, he could still remember the last time, the sweet love-making after Sam had gotten his soul back, how they gripped onto each other so tight, afraid to lose one another. He turned into his brother's ear, "That's all you gotta say, Sammy," He breathed, kissing the larger man's temple.

Sam leaned the side of his head into his brother's kiss, needing to feel something or he'd fall apart. He brought his hands up weakly, just enough to grab the hem of Dean's shirt, pulling him closer the best he could. He traced his nose lightly up the vein on Dean's neck, placing a delicate kiss right below his ear.

"Sorry," He murmured. He hoped the older Winchester could see the real meaning behind the simple word, sorry for putting everything on Dean, sorry for almost checking out on him, sorry for being so weak.

"Don't be," Dean's voice came out as a tremor, "Just stay with me, stick through this, an' trust me. S'all I need to get by, an' I will hold you up best I can," He moved closer, pressing their bodies together and sighing blissfully, "I need you just as much as you need me. I can't lose that. You understand?"

Sam tugged lightly on the hem of his brother's shirt as he whispered: " _Please_." Being with Dean was the closest thing to happiness he'd ever felt and that was something that would never waver, not even in his darkest hour. He was just sorry that he couldn't see at least _that_ much before, Dean was his silver lining in all of this madness.

The older Winchester took Sam's face in his hands, pulling the larger man down into a kiss, his fingers gripped tight into his brother's hair, holding him to his height, mouth opening and tongue pressing out desperately to taste Sam. He poured his anger and fear into it, breaths coming out sharp and ragged as he moved them back to the bed.

It was hard for Sam to reciprocate the 'enthusiasm', for lack of a better word, he could barely find it in himself to **stand**. He loved Dean and, as much as he needed this, it was beginning to look a bit one-sided, his body was exhausted.

Sam kissed the older Winchester back, weakly but lovingly as he felt the bed nip at the back of his legs.

Dean pushed Sam onto the bed, climbing between his legs, spreading them as he settled in and broke their kiss, taking Sam's face in his hands as Dean brushed his lips over his brother's eye lids. He kissed the worried wrinkles shaped between his brows, the pockets of his dimples, the unusual scruff along Sam's neck and jaw as his hands smoothed over his brother's pecks, thumbs drawing soothing circles on the cold skin.

Sam's eyes fluttered closed as he sighed in relief, as he let Dean kiss his face. He wanted to make an effort, to show Dean that this meant something to him as well. He touched the warm flesh just beneath the bottom of his brother's shirt, "So soft," He breathed, almost completely inaudible.

"Right," Dean agreed, slightly breathless as he felt the touch of fingers along his stomach. He moved down, carefully lifting Sam's shirt and removing it, his mouth tasting the skin below, butterfly kisses grazing along his brother's pecks as he ran his hands down Sam's thighs.

Sam watched his brother's lips tease his skin, trying to force himself into a different mindset. If anything, focusing on Dean would help him forget for a little while. The younger Winchester could feel his dick harden slightly against his jeans when Dean touched his thighs, almost painfully so. He looked down, his exhausted eyes meeting his brother's as he rested his hand lightly on the back of Dean's head, his long fingers weakly playing with his hair.

His entire mind was still worked up from before - terrified, worried, afraid - but Dean forced them all back as he took time, adoring Sam's pieces. His tongue licked the heating skin around his brother's nipple, tasting the salt before taking one of the hardened nubs into his mouth. His hands moved as he sucked, pushing circles into the skin behind Sam's knees and clasping his calves.

Sam's lips parted subconsciously, his mind almost oblivious to his body's reactions to Dean's gestures. He was having a hard time focusing on enjoying what was being handed to him due to the memories of his skin searing off of his own face.

His eyes shut harshly as his whole body became rigid, a small sob escaped his mouth as tremors overtook his muscles.

Dean looked up, mouth parting with the flesh as he moved, taking his brother's face in his hands, "Sam?" He asked, brows narrowing as he kissed him on the corner of his mouth, "Baby boy?" He breathed, grabbing one of Sam's hands in his and squeezing it.

The younger Winchester was in a daze, his mind being forced to relive shit he'd rather not remember when he realized Dean was in front of him. Sam blinked a few times as his brother's words finally reached his ears, he shook his head as if nothing happened.

"M'fine," He mumbled, trying to calm his muscles, "Sorry," He tried feigning a smile to please his older brother.

"No your not," Dean said sternly, eyes watering slightly as he watched his brother struggle to maintain himself, "You're burnin', I can see it." He leaned up, pressing his lips to Sam's forehead, holding his brother's jaw firmly between his palms as he rested his mouth there, closing his eyes to keep himself in check.

Sam leaned into it as he sighed, knowing his brother was right, he **wasn't** fine. The younger Winchester rested a hand on Dean's bicep and was able to feel how tensed up he was, what his _personal_ dilemma was doing to the only person he cared about.

"I still want you," Sam admitted, his voice broken.

Dean kept his eyes shut, squeezing them tightly as his bottom lip tremor'd against Sam's eyebrows and he opened his mouth, kissing the lines that had worried themselves into his brother over their life. His body pressed into Sam's as he breathed, teeth, tongue, lips tasting the concern he was always forced to look at, that he'd missed the past year and a half.

The younger Winchester drug his hand up lazily from his brother's bicep to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. This wasn't the time to push Dean away, he **needed** him, in more ways than one, "Just-" He paused, his brows furrowing under Dean's lips, " _Please_ ," He practically begged for a distraction.

He felt the tear slip passed his defenses, breaking a line through the dry skin of his cheeks and Dean nodded, moving low before Sam could see his face and he ran his hands down the larger man's body. His heated palms pressed the muscles as he kissed the warmed stomach, teeth clamping onto his belly button as his hands wandered between Sam's thighs.

A weak shuddered breath escaped Sam's mouth as he focused more on the welcomed diversion. He tightened his abdomen when he felt Dean's teeth tease aching skin, he shifted his hips slightly more towards his brother. It would've gone unnoticed if it hadn't of dripped onto his skin, a tear, **Dean's**.

Without saying anything, Sam reached down and used his knuckles to gently wipe away the wetness.

Dean pulled back from the hand, turning his head and kissing the inside of Sam's hip as he continued on, pretending as though his brother hadn't noticed a thing. The **last** thing Sam needed to know of was how completely broken up _he_ , himself, was.

"Dean, wait," Sam muttered, shaking his head warily, "This isn't right." He pulled his body back slowly as he cupped Dean's face firmly, drawing him up and placing a weak, chaste kiss on Dean's lips.

The older Winchester tried to pull away, smearing his lips against Sam's as he turned, looking down as his heart stung, chest clenching in fear, "Forget it, can we just-"

"No," Sam insisted, turning Dean's face back towards him, "Not like this." Under different circumstances the younger Winchester would have been for it, but like this, it just felt empty. Sam looked at the older Winchester with a glint of hope in his eyes, "Can you just," He paused, looking at the bed, "Can you just hold me, or somethin'?"

Dean frowned, brows narrowing, "M'fine," He protested, keeping his eyes away still, "I can do this, Sam." He swallowed, kissing the soft skin of his brother's hip as his shaking hands moved up Sam's sides, "M'fine. Okay?"

"Look at me, Dean," Sam asked, his heart twisting, knowing he'd be able to tell if his brother was lying.

The older Winchester shook his head as tears slipped passed his eyelids, leaving streaks down his face and he turned, pulling back from Sam, unable to think of anything else to do but to hide.

"How am I suppose to rely on you, Dean, if we're both falling apart?" Sam asked incredulously, tears brimming his lids.

Dean felt the words like a punch to his gut and he winced at them. It hurt, but they were true. How **could** he keep Sam up, if he couldn't even hold himself together - to start with? He pushed everything back, putting up his own sort of wall and he turned to look at his brother once he'd cleared his eyes.

"Sorry, momentary vagina, I'm fine," He said, moving back to Sam, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him in, mouth opening and taking Sam's lips, teeth biting into the bottom one.

There was too much tension between the both of them, maybe this is what they both needed. Sam returned the kiss fervently, more so than he thought capable of himself at this point. His dick throbbed back to life when Dean bit his lip, eliciting a whimper. This type of pain was different, it was good, let him know things were still real.

The response was what he wanted it to be and Dean groaned into Sam's mouth, fingers twisting into his brother's hair as his hips bucked down against Sam's, shifting them slightly along the bed as the hunger coursed through him like fire, lighting the dead parts inside of him. He bit the lip harder, pulling his teeth back and feeling the skin drag through them.

Sam's large hands found their way to his brother's hips, he pulled him closer and moaned aloud, "Want it," He mumbled hurriedly, "Want you," His hands not staying in one place, but roaming all over Dean's body.

Dean licked his lips, fingers reaching under the spread of the bed where he kept his gun - and various other things; including the small tube of lubricant. He pulled back up, yanking his shirt off and pushing his pants down his thighs, shaking fingers coating himself and grabbing Sam's legs up to pull him closer.

Sam leaned back and spread his legs slightly, watching Dean with darkened, hungry eyes, needing him to fill the void.

The older Winchester leaned in, pressing his lips in a soft kiss to Sam's heart before he began pushing inside. He didn't prepare his brother, didn't give it time and consideration like they normally did, he wanted it to **burn** , he wanted the muscles to clamp so tight around him that he couldn't breathe.

Sam let out a pleasure infused yell as he threw his head back, what little fingernails he had bit into Dean, leaving tiny strings of heated copper lined along his back, "Yes, God yes." The dull burn momentarily bleeding the younger Winchester's mind of any sickness.

Dean wrapped one arm under Sam's left leg, hiking it up to his shoulder and he leaned down, the other shifting under his brother's shoulder and Dean pulled back a slight bit before thrusting forward and slamming sharply into Sam's heat.


End file.
